Work Text:
The only defense Claude could give himself as Dimitri draped a blanket over his shoulders, patted his chest once, and bade him good night was that he really, honestly, had not meant for this to happen.
The mission was supposed to be a simple one. Just a supply run to the next town over to pick up some flour. Remire village was only a day away from the Monastery, and a trip so pedestrian was not the sort that required a full class. There wasn’t anything pressing to do this month for any of the classes, in fact, and so the professors had put their heads together and had returned with the grand idea of a House Leader bonding trip. That meant Claude was stuck on the road with bratty Edelgard and stick-in-the-mud Dimitri for a whole two days, round trip, and, oh boy, was he ever excited for that. (That was sarcasm. An art which apparently both Dimitri and Edelgard could not perceive in the slightest, as when Claude had said that straight to their faces, Dimitri had simply smiled and replied that he, too, was looking forward to the opportunity while Edelgard nodded sagely. Oh, Gods, what the hell was Claude going to do for two days with these two?)
The trip down the mountain from the Monastery had been so deathly quiet that Claude wanted to scream if only to break the silence. They had left early in the morning, each of them with their own horse packed with all their gear: their sleeping bags, individual tents, food rations, water, all of that. Claude’s entire life for the next two days was packed onto the back of his horse; it carried everything he needed and everything he would be lost without. (Fuck. Stupid fucking horse.) Dimitri had complimented Claude for his efficiency in packing, and if that wasn’t the most inane compliment that Claude had ever received, he didn’t know what was. But neither Edelgard nor Dimitri seemed particularly inclined to small talk, so Claude had accepted the compliment with a grin while having the sinking feeling that he was about to be condemned to two days of trying in vain to break the ice between them. (That was not a fate he would wish on anyone. Yet, here he was.)
It seemed like he was right. The only conversation that they really got on the way down the mountain came when Claude made some idle remark about the scenery or attempted to engage the other two by asking the pair questions, but all he got in reply from Edelgard were noncommittal hums or simple, one word answers. Dimitri was even worse, refusing to look Claude in the eye when he spoke to him and stammering all over his words. (Very un-princely, Claude thought. But then again, it had always been hard for Claude to catch Dimitri’s eyes, even before this trip. It wasn’t fair; they were such a pretty blue. If he was going to be stuck on this trip with these two, Dimitri should at least give him something nice to look at! Wait… what?) It was awkward, it was awful, and Claude was ready to pull his hair out by the time they made it to Remire. After they got their supplies all loaded up, it had been Claude to suggest that they immediately turn around and head back for the Monastery just so they wouldn’t have as long of a journey tomorrow. The sooner that he could get this over with, the better. Dimitri and Edelgard had agreed as soon as he’d pulled the ‘but the Monastery really needs these supplies’ card, and they had set off under an orange sky for home.
That had been a mistake. A truly terrible, horrible mistake.
It had been when they stopped to water the horses and set up camp that disaster struck. He had led his horse to the water while Edelgard began unpacking her camping gear and Dimitri gathered firewood when something (a branch breaking? The horse’s own reflection in the water? Had Claude exhaled too loudly?) spooked his horse. It ripped the reins from his hands and sprinted across the stream and into the woods with all of Claude’s supplies still on its back, and no amount of shouting and chasing after it had been enough to get it to return.
And that? That was what led to now, where a very pouty Claude was being tucked in by an overly doting Prince who had volun-told Claude to share his tent with him that night. Claude had told the other two when it became obvious that his horse would not be coming back that he would just keep watch under the stars that night. It wasn’t that chilly out, really, he would be fine… but chivalrous Dimitri would not stand for it. Claude should sleep in a tent like the rest of them, if he stayed out all night he was bound to catch a cold. Obviously he couldn’t double up with Edelgard, and so he had been ushered unceremoniously into the Prince’s tent for the evening.
These were one person tents, so it was more than a little cramped in here with the pair of them. But Dimitri had told Claude over and over that it was fine, he didn’t mind sharing, Claude should just relax and make himself comfortable. (Never mind that Claude minded sharing. He had only known Dimitri for a little over two months; he had no reason to trust the man who he knew slept with a sword within reach. But did anyone ask for his opinion?) It took a lot of metaphorical arm-twisting, but eventually Claude just had to surrender to the reality that was playing out around him.
He was going to be sharing a tent with Prince Dimitri tonight.
He expected it to be awkward. It was. Once they got into the tent the first thing Dimitri had done was pull off his shirt to change into his pajamas, and Claude was too blinded by the view to think that he should probably leave. ‘Man, his back muscles are toned,’ was the only thing that Claude was able to think before he was accidentally smacked upside the head by Dimitri’s elbow. Dimitri apologized profusely for that as Claude massaged his temple and tried very hard not to look at the half-naked royal that was fussing over him, snapped out of his stupor by the blow. Eventually Dimitri went back to changing and Claude figured that he had stayed long enough that it would be only more awkward if he got up and fled the tent now, so he just stared studiously at the canvas wall while he heard the shift of fabric behind him. He only turned back around when he was positive that it was safe again, merely to be confronted with awkwardness number two.
It came in the form of Dimitri broaching the subject of their sleeping arrangements. The Prince immediately offered to share not only his tent, but his bedroll with Claude. That suggestion fired up the heat in Claude’s cheeks and he had been quick to refuse, telling Dimitri that he would be fine with just the ground. Dimitri had frowned immediately and told Claude, again, that wouldn’t do. Claude was a friend in peril and chivalry dictated that Dimitri do something about that. So when Claude refused to share, Dimitri had simply offered to give Claude the whole sleeping bag to himself.
“Honestly, Dimitri!” Claude had protested, face burning. No one had ever fussed over him this much, not even his own mother! Tired as he was from the long, frustrating journey, he blurted that thought out without thinking. “You’re not my mom!”
And that, that had been awkwardness number three. Even Dimitri felt it that time, his face turning as red as a cherry to match Claude’s. Dimitri cleared his throat and apologized for his forwardness, rubbing the back of his neck in sheepish embarrassment.
“Would… would the blanket do for you, then?” Dimitri asked, and Claude relented. If it would get Dimitri to stop looking at him, he’d take the damn blanket.
“Fine, give it here,” Claude said, holding out his hands. Dimitri, though, had just put his hand on Claude’s shoulder, easing him down onto the tarp until he was lying on his back. Claude thought his head was going to explode.
“I’ll get it adjusted for you,” Dimitri told him.
Claude had NOT meant for this to happen. That was the only defense he could raise as Dimitri tucked him in.
“There…” the Prince said, patting him on the chest. “Are you comfortable?” he asked. Claude managed to squeak out a ‘yes’ in reply. (Gods, he was going to have an aneurysm.) How had Dimitri’s embarrassment passed so quickly that now he could be looking down at Claude with such soft eyes? Hey, Dimitri was looking him in the eyes! He… he hadn’t expected it to be so intense when the Prince did. Dimitri’s expression was so caring, and his hand stopped patting Claude to instead just settle on his sternum, and they didn’t break eye contact for almost ten seconds.
Then, Claude snapped it. He turned his head to the right, puffed his cheeks, and blew out the lantern to plunge them into darkness, just so he didn’t have to look at that expression for one second longer. Had… had anyone in his life ever looked at him with such compassion and concern?
“Augh, Claude! I needed that!” Dimitri complained. Claude felt no remorse.
“I’m sure you can manage your way into your bedroll just fine,” he responded cheekily. He might have regretted his actions, just a little bit, when Dimitri’s wrestling with his sleeping bag ended with Claude getting kicked in the side a couple times, but once Dimitri got settled and everything was quiet again, Claude exhaled a huge breath of relief. Things were bound to get a little less heart racing once the Prince fell asleep. (Claude didn’t think he was going to be able to sleep a wink tonight. Dimitri was too Close. His pulse was too fast, his anxiety was too high. He only slept next to people he knew he could trust.)
“Goodnight, Dimitri,” Claude said as he felt the Prince settle.
“Yes, goodnight, Claude,” Dimitri said back, and then it was back to silence.
Long, awkward silence as Claude waited to hear Dimitri’s breaths even out in sleep. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. There was no discernable change in Dimitri’s breathing, and the Prince hadn’t moved at all. Claude pulled the blanket up to his chin and let out a little sigh. Maybe it just took Dimitri a long time to fall asleep naturally? Claude stayed quiet and eventually closed his eyes just to rest them. He was still wide awake and plenty alert. If Dimitri reached for his sword, Claude would know. He’d hear even the smallest shift; he was listening keenly to the Prince’s movements.
An hour slipped by and Dimitri still hadn’t moved. His breathing hadn’t changed, either. He was still awake, that was plain to Claude. He expected Dimitri would have drifted off ages ago, but he hadn’t. And Claude, curious-minded as he was, couldn’t help but wonder if Dimitri was experiencing the exact same situation that Claude was. Sleeping with a stranger who kept a weapon in their hand while they slept… the air between them was too tense for either of them to drift off. It was heavy, charged, and… and the silence was smothering Claude the same way it had been all day.
He had to do something about it, and so he shifted and cleared his throat. Dimitri took that as his cue to roll over. Claude couldn’t really see in the darkness of the tent, but he knew that Dimitri had just turned to face him.
“I’m sorry,” the Prince whispered. “Am I keeping you awake?” he asked. Claude began to shake his head only to realize that Dimitri could see no better than he could, and so he answered aloud.
“No,” he responded. “Don’t worry about it. I just get a bit of insomnia every now and again.”
“Are you sure?” Dimitri pressed, and Claude could imagine he was wearing that same soft, concerned expression that he had when he’d tucked him in earlier. “You aren’t uncomfortable? I really don’t mind giving up the sleeping bag if the ground is too hard or it’s too cold. Honestly! In fact, if it would help you rest easier, I could just leave,” he offered. Claude considered it for a second. Yeah, Dimitri leaving would definitely make him more comfortable. But this was Dimitri’s tent, and Claude wasn’t about to just steal it out from under him!
“Dimitri, it’s fine, I’m fine. Like I said, just a bit of restlessness. It can be kind of difficult to turn my mind off for sleeping sometimes, and it’s been… a day,” Claude huffed. Dimitri let out a pensive little hum, but after checking once more time, he allowed the subject to drop.
“If you are certain…”
They settled in again for another hour of silence. Claude stared at the wall of the tent. He didn’t know what Dimitri was doing, but it definitely wasn’t sleeping. Claude’s keen ears told him that, but he still couldn’t fathom why the Prince hadn’t drifted off hours ago. He squinted at the canvas in contemplation, but it held no answers for him. Eventually, Claude rolled over again, propping himself up on his elbows as Dimitri shifted in tandem with him, letting out a tired little huff as he sat up.
“I apologize…” the Prince murmured once again. “This is not an uncommon occurrence. I hope I am not disturbing you,” he said.
“Nah,” Claude vocalized with another little shake of his head. “You’re fine, your Princeliness. Insomnia’s a bitch,” he said, and Dimitri made a stifled noise of surprise. Claude’s lips quirked upwards when the Prince spoke again.
“Claude, language!” he hissed, and Claude snorted.
“Oh, you’re such a stick-in-the-mud,” he responded, resting his head on his arms. Claude expected Dimitri to laugh at his jibe. When the Prince did not, Claude was suddenly reminded of Dimitri’s seeming obliviousness when it came to sarcasm, and his eyes went wide in the darkness. Dimitri had been so kind, sharing his tent and his blanket and, now, his company. And Claude had just insulted the prince to his face! He cleared his throat, scrambling to make an apology. “I mean- I don’t mean that, you know? You’re, um… I think you’re great, Dimitri. Chivalrous, and nice, and all those wonderful knightly things. Definitely not a muddy stick. Yup.” (Nice, solid apology, Claude.) If he wasn’t so certain that Dimitri would have heard it, he might have facepalmed at himself. Today was nothing but a day of failures.
“It’s fine,” Dimitri answered. “I-I realize that I can come across as a bit… overbearing. It was not my intention to. Um. Mother you.” Red flooded Claude’s face once again. Scolding him for his language… yeah, he thought. That’s something his mother might have done, too. But he hadn’t been thinking about that at all! Had his earlier comment really dug into Dimitri so deeply that it was bothering him even now?
“Hey, no, it’s fine!” Claude said, pushing himself up again. “I know how it is up north, uptight with all that chivalry and knighthood. I don’t really get it, but hey! The point of this trip is to learn more about each other, right? Just because we have our differences doesn’t mean we can’t get along!” he insisted. “And, besides, it’s… sort of charming. I mean, that you care about me and all that. I’m still practically a stranger,” he pointed out. “It was very chivalrous of you to share your tent with me. And the blanket. And, might I say… it’s pretty damn nice to be able to talk openly to you for once. Even if this is sort of awkward,” he said. Dimitri let out a little laugh, nervous and off-pitch.
“It is,” he agreed with all that Claude had to say, and then let out a deep breath. “Truly, I… I do not mind so much that you blew out the light. It is easier to be honest in the dark, when I cannot see you,” he said. Claude laughed and aimed for a joke to lighten the mood.
“You’re intimidated by little old me? Dimitri, you could suplex me. If anything, I should be scared of you! I really make you too nervous to talk?” he asked.
There was a pause. And then, “Yes,” said Dimitri in a very small, very quiet, very honest voice. Claude’s mouth dropped open, but it seemed that Dimitri had gathered his courage and he bravely pressed forward with the conversation. “Claude, you are… you are so amazing… a true leader, confident and charismatic… and me, I’m just a… what did you call it? A stick-in-the-mud. If I was not a Prince, no one would ever listen to me. I… I lack the natural talent you possess. I cannot help but to admire you, and when I am near you, I just feel so… inadequate,” he confessed. “How am I supposed to speak around you? What could I possibly have to say that is worth your time, when I am so little in comparison to you? I… I do not know,” he whispered. “I don’t know.”
“Dimitri…” Claude exhaled. After hearing a confession like that, what on earth was he supposed to say? Now he was the speechless one after being confronted by something so brutally honest. He reached out in the darkness and his fingers bumped against something that he puzzled out to be Dimitri’s arm. (Mm, a very nice arm, very firm under his fingers… no! This was important, don’t get distracted!) The Prince tensed a bit but Claude wrapped his fingers around Dimitri’s bicep, giving it a little squeeze. “I know that I don’t know you very well, yet, but I can already tell you that you’re a fine leader. You’re so kind and caring and selfless, you go out of your way to help anyone in need… those are all good qualities,” he said. “And I’m not just saying that because I’m benefitting from them right now. I mean it. Compassion is a trait that this world needs more of, especially in its rulers. You have it in spades, Dimitri. Me, I’m selfish. I don’t do things unless they can be of some benefit to me. But you’re different… you and me, we’re opposites. But that’s not a bad thing, not at all. It just means that you and I have a lot to learn from one another. Don’t we?” he asked. Dimitri was quiet for a long while, considering it. But eventually, Claude thought he saw him nodding.
“That… does seem to be the case,” he agreed. Claude smiled, his fingers slipping down Dimitri’s arm until he found the Prince’s hand. He gave it a small squeeze.
“We are in agreement, then,” he said. “And so then, Dimitri, do you think it would be all right if we tried to be friends?” he asked. “I promise I’m not as scary as I look. I want to talk to you more. Can we do that?”
“Yes, I think so, Claude. I think… I think I would like very much to be friends with you,” Dimitri answered. Claude’s heart performed a little flip-flop in his chest.
Now why on earth would it do something like that?
Shoving his intrusive thoughts away, including just how nice and firm Dimitri’s bicep had been, (Gods, who gave Dimitri the right to be so… so… just, so!) Claude felt the smile on his lips grow. “Friends, then,” he agreed. “Now then, your Princeliness, I think it’s high time you and I actually tried to get some sleep tonight. I think we might find a little more success if we have another go at it, don’t you?” he asked, and Dimitri hummed in the affirmative as he lay back down.
“Indeed,” the Prince said. He pulled Claude’s hand along with him and that little action pulled Claude down, too. Closer to Dimitri’s bedroll than he had been before. Claude was very grateful that the lantern was out, even if he thought his face felt like it was glowing enough to light up the tent all on its own. If Dimitri knew what he was doing to Claude’s heart, the man plainly didn’t care, because he didn’t let go.
“Goodnight, Claude,” he bade.
“Goodnight, Dimitri,” Claude returned, once again wondering how the hell he was supposed to fall asleep when his heart was beating this fast. Dimitri’s breaths slowed over the course of the next ten minutes but Claude’s pulse surely didn’t. When he heard Dimitri start snoring, Claude gave a wiggle of his fingers to see if he might be able to free his hand. The way Dimitri tightened his hold told Claude not a chance.
But it was… nice. When was the last time someone held his hand? Called him a friend? Praised him, wanted to know him, wanted him near? This was so nice, Dimitri was so nice…
Maybe too nice.
Oh, no, Claude thought as a miasma of feelings blended inside his ribcage. This was… platonic, right? Wasn’t it platonic affection that he was feeling? Dimitri had said himself that he wanted to be Claude’s friend! That’s what this was, it had to be. Claude was only excited to have a friend. That’s why his heart was set to beat right out of his chest!
Oh, who was he kidding? Claude wiggled his fingers again and when that only made Dimitri huff and whine in his sleep, Claude felt himself surrendering to the realization. Dimitri settled beside him and gripped his fingers just a little bit tighter, and Claude recognized that these feelings were not platonic. But how the hell had it taken him only one night to develop a romantic inclination towards this block-headed prince?
…I’m doomed, Claude thought sadly to the walls of the tent. All he could hope was that when they got back to the Monastery, life would go back to normal. That Dimitri would continue to be his friend, of course, but that Claude’s heart was not going to get hung up on him. (That would just be a giant mess, wouldn’t it?) And yet… he couldn’t help but notice just how nicely their fingers fit together.
When the sun began to rise on Claude’s sleepless night and the first thought he had was how pretty Dimitri’s hair looked, splayed over the pillow like that, he knew he was screwed.